


Sanity Long Gone

by Sky_Astor



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Clara!Torture, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fear of Death, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nudity, Survival Horror, Swearing, Torture, Violence, Vomiting, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-11 19:19:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5638786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sky_Astor/pseuds/Sky_Astor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Clara visit the Mount Massive Asylum, which had been abandoned, but then secretly reopened for experimenting on people. What Twelve and Clara don't know, is that the experiments had gone wrong and the only things that are left in the asylum now, are corpses, some broken inmates and a few psychopathic murderers...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mount Massive

**Author's Note:**

> General A/N:  
> DW/Outlast Crossover  
> You don’t need to know the game to read this. :) I’ve only borrowed the location, a few scenes and characters. I have also kept (a lot of) their lines because they are really great and I thought it would be a pity if I replaced their quotes. :) I also visited the Outlast Wikia for writing help.  
> By the way, if you play video games, I can really recommend Outlast! I nearly s**t myself when I played it.  
> So, done talking.  
> Here is my Survival Horror Whouffaldi Fic!  
> I’m not saying that I can describe things well, but some things you may find disturbing.  
> The AO3 version contains a few screencaps from the game.  
> Enjoy. :)  
> x  
> Feed your dark side.

The Doctor's eyes had opened lazily for a brief moment, but his heavy eyelids fell shut again. His body was lying on a cold ground and his head and face had hurt. Through his nose, he inhaled deeply and growled - a pain was also tightening his chest.

 _”What's happened?”_ he asked himself in thoughts.

He couldn't remember anything.

“Clara?”

No reply.

He managed to open his eyes. Darkness and fog was surrounding him and the memories refused to come back to him.

He tried to lift himself up.

A hiss escaped his mouth as his palms touched the ground.

Shards.

He was lying in shards and both his hands were covered with a few cut wounds. He brought his hand to his face - to the place where it had hurt as well.

Another cut wound - a bigger one. A red line that went from under his eye to his jaw.

The Time Lord got very slowly up due to his aching, dumb body. He looked up at the big villa next to him. A broken window was partly hidden in the fog on the third floor.

Night. Fog. Pain. Shards. Villa.

No villa.

He remembered.

xx xx xx

_The middle of a cold night._

_The darkness was accompanied by a light breeze and a fog that reminded everyone that it was Autumn._

_“Clara Oswald, you never cease to amaze me,” the Doctor said as he was fulfilling another of her wishes._

_They stepped out of the TARDIS that was parked next to a gate house in front of a big, castle-like villa._

_ _

_“Mount Massive Asylum - a long-abandoned hospital... Or so at least everyone thinks.”_

_Clara's eyes were full of spark as they found him. A little playful smile was encouraging the Doctor to continue._

_Adrenaline junkies._

_“Secretly re-opened for research... experiments,” the Doctor continued as he walked over to the rusty metal gate and sonicked it._

_“Welcome to Mount Massive, Miss Oswald,” he said with a grin while he held the gate door open for her.”_

_They walked along the path to the main entrance while their hungry eyes examined the asylum from the outside. They couldn't make out anything unusual. Just the lights were on in some of the rooms and they even spotted one person that walked past one of the windows._

_The lock of the main door clicked when the Doctor pointed his screwdriver on it, but they couldn't get in, anyway._

_“Barricaded?” Clara asked._

_“Yes, probably. We must find another way in.”_

_Main door blocked? This would be good. The Doctor's hearts were drumming in his chest in suspense and joy because he couldn't wait to get in. This may not be one of their usual trips, but it was certainly not less exciting._

_From the door, they went left and walked quietly along the wall, so no one could see them._

_Soon, they came to a scaffolding that reached up the fourth floor._

_“Look, there's no pane in that window up there,” the Doctor pointed up._

_“Oh, yeah, good eyes,” Clara replied with a smile._

_The old and rusty construction creaked and shook under them as they were climbing up._

_The room was empty, lights were off. The Doctor and Clara climbed quietly inside through the window and just when they got in, Clara jumped as the construction noisily collapsed to the ground._

_“That was close,” the Doctor said._

_“What if someone will come?” she asked quickly._

_“We have to hope that no one will,” the Doctor replied._

_“Great.”_

_Spotting a locker, she grabbed him by the hand and pushed him inside and then squeezed herself in as well._

_ _

_Pressed against each other, secretly smiling in the dark, they waited._

_No sounds could be heard. Nothing. The fear disappeared as quickly as it came._

_“I don't think that anyone will come, Clara,” the Time Lord said after a while._

_“Probably not,” she agreed and they went out._

_The Impossible girl immediately went to the door at her right, but the Doctor grabbed her arm to stop her._

_“Wait!” he started._

_“We have to be quiet... We don't know what is going on here, so we have to be careful, alright?”_

_Sometimes she just threw herself into the adventures... and he didn't like that. She was a difficult person to be looked after. What if something happened to her? A loss he couldn't bear. Wouldn't bear. Clara was the air in his lungs, the beating of his hearts... his everything._

_The soft tone and concern in his voice made her remember that this hadn't been the first time he told her to be more careful. Although she tried to keep it in mind, but in the heat of the moment her body just started doing what it wanted and she forgot herself._

_“What I'm trying to say is... I care for you deeply-”_

_“I know,” Clara interrupted him with a smile._

_“And I can't protect you if you keep on rushing into things,” the Doctor tried to explain calmly._

_Stepping closer to him, she took his hand and squeezed it, which made his hearts flutter._

_“I know... And I'm sorry. You know how I can be sometimes,” she replied._

_The Doctor tilted his head as his lips curled into a smile. His loving gaze gave his thoughts away._

_“I'll try to pay more attention. For you,” she assured him._

_She stepped aside, so he could go first - as it usually was and how it should be._

_“No one can see us till we snitch some lab coats... With the psychic paper, it's all we need.”_

_Clara nodded and the Doctor opened the door that led to the next room. He could have chosen the door that led to the hallway, but that would have been too risky since he saw light coming from under that particular door._

_When Clara and the Doctor entered the next room, a terrible stench invaded their nostrils._

_“Blimey, what's that?!” Clara whispered as she made a grimace._

_The Doctor didn't answer - he just took her hand in his._

_He knew what it was... Blood. Decaying human body._

_The Doctor had decided to tell her because she should know what to expect._

_“Probably a dead body somewhere in this room,” came his reply and Clara's heart started beating a little a faster._

_Neither of them could see much due to high bookshelves and wardrobes that were distributed all over the room, but there was one thing they saw - a bit of light that was coming from the corner, so they headed towards it. After they had squeezed through the narrow aisles, the smell was much stronger and burned inside their noses, making them a bit sick. They peeked out from behind one of the shelves..._

_A lamp was dangling from the ceiling, illuminating a person impaled by a pole that was forced in his anus and went out through his mouth. Maggots were devouring his eyes and a part of the man's face, the body was deformed by cramps and covered in cut wounds... Dark blood was dripping on the floor where it formed pool._

_ _

_Clara gasped at the hideous sight in front of them and her eyes fell to the ground to avoid it._

_“Clara, you're fine, look at me, look at me,” the Doctor whispered as his hands found her shoulders._

_“Who could have done that?” she asked._

_“I don't know, but something's very wrong here... Come on, we have to get past him to the door... Will you be ok?” he asked._

_Clara nodded, still a bit stunned, “Yeah, I think so... I just hadn't expected anything like...that.”_

_“It's alright, Clara,” he whispered._

_“Neither did I,” he went on to himself as he walked over to the dead man and Clara, fascinated and disgusted at the same time, followed him._

_“Clara, look.”_

_Right next to the man, the Time Lord saw some clothes lying on the ground._

_“He was a member of the staff,” he explained and moved in front of the body._

_“Twenty-nine.”_

_“Twenty-nine?” Clara asked._

_“The number's carved into his stomach right here. I hadn't noticed before because it got mixed up with the other cuts from the distance.”_

_“What does it mean?” she asked._

_“I don't know,” the Doctor shook his head._

_Then they moved through another door and found themselves in a long hallway._

_Quiet. Everything was so quiet. Too quiet._

_The lights on the ceiling were on, a lot of them didn't work, so parts of it remained in quite dark. The Doctor decided to go right where it led them to a sort of balcony that went all around. Below them, they could see the atrium and pieces of furniture gathered together - no doubt they stood just above the barricaded entrance._

_“Look, there's a lift,” Clara pointed out._

_It was an old lift cage (stairs right next to it) - on their left, just opposite the main door._

_“But we'll have to squeeze between two wardrobes again... Someone had great fun rearranging stuff in here,” she added._

_“Seems like it.”_

_The Doctor walked over to the wardrobes just to get a better look at the main door. Wardrobes, chairs, tables, two broken computers, plants... and three dead bodies._

_Clothes soaked with blood, bodies probably stabbed, throats cut._

_“Oh God,” Clara uttered quietly as she joined the Doctor's side._

_“Someone's murdered the staff. And the patients probably as well,” the Doctor mused._

_“You think he or she or they are still inside, right?” she asked him as her eyes fell again to the blocked door._

_The Time Lord nodded and went over to the obstacle that prevented them from going to the lift._

_“Come on, let's go to the lift,” he said as while he was squeezing through between the pieces of furniture._

_On the other side, a cold hand suddenly grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up in the air._

_Hearing Clara call his name, the time traveller was now genuinely frightened as he was looking in two piercing, bloody eyes of a muscular man who seemed to have enormous strength. Almost a mutant. He had no shirt and his body was sprinkled with drops and splatters of dried red liquid - under them one could spot numerous dark violet bruises. His crazy eyes examined the Doctor whose fingers were digging into his hand. The mad man shook his victim violently in the air, growling with pleasure before he punched him heavily in the stomach._

_“Doctor!” Clara called again in despair, just standing there on the spot because she knew she couldn't help him._

_“Run, Clara! Hide somewhere,” was the only thing he managed to say in a slightly broken voice due to the pain before an iron fist hit his torso again._

_No clear words, just another angry groan when the big man carried the Doctor into the nearest room._

_The Doctor managed to kick him a few times, but it was no use because the mutant-like man who felt no pain._

_Growling again, he threw the intruder with all his power against the window._

_xx xx xx_

He remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twelve & Clara in the locker - art by Alex  
> Tumblr: http://alexthehellartist.tumblr.com/  
> Check it out - there is some great Whouffaldi art :3
> 
> Hope you like it and that you read the rest of the story as well. :)
> 
> Kudos & comments appreciated.


	2. Kill Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments so far! :)

Looking up again, he saw the branches of a tree that saved him from further injuries and caused a few rips in his velvet coat.

_Clara. My Clara. Hopefully, she’s escaped._

“Clara?” he whispered at the window above.

Then a little louder.

No reply.

Probably she'd been long gone from that place where the primitive kept his watch.

The Doctor drew his sonic sunglasses from his pocket and used them as night vision goggles. At least he had one advantage unlike the gang in the asylum.

Seeing properly in the dark, he saw a crumpled piece of paper on the ground.

He picked it up and read.

_I'm fine for now. The big guy didn't get me. If you are reading this and I'm not with you, then I'm still inside. I'll try to get down to the ground floor, so I can get out somehow._

_We'll meet soon, I hope._

_Clara_

_xxx_

Suddenly the Doctor felt all his energy sparkle inside him. He quietly scuttled along the villa, having high hopes he would find a way inside again. Windows were his thing - but he couldn't use these because the ones on the ground floor had bars on them. Bad luck. Behind the asylum, he found some kind of illuminated playground surrounded by a fence - just like the rest of the estate. He put the glasses down, so he wouldn't get blinded.

“Look there's a new one,” said a calm voice coming from inside the playground.

“Oh yeah... Can you feel how nervous he is?” replied another voice.

“I'd like to kill him,” responded the first again.

Two men came slowly to towards the Doctor. Only when they stood right at the fence, the Doctor could see them properly. Both were bald and had a scar on their heads, their eyes were empty, yet full of madness... Their bodies were covered with goose bumps and a few bruises, their members were shrunk due to the cold.

The Doctor looked towards the gate - a padlock was on it. Thankfully.

“Oh, tough cheese, boys. Maybe another time,” the Doctor said cheekily because he knew they couldn't harm him.

Not wasting his time, he continued to the middle of the overgrown garden where he saw a fountain that was partly lit by the tall lights from the playground. The water had a darker shade than it should have, so he came closer to take a better look at it. At first he thought that it was just dirty, but it was coloured in dark red by the murdered men and women that were inside it. Bodies waterlogged, bloating, smelling... Increasing his worries about Clara.

Behind it, further away on his left he saw a rectangular building of bricks… Smaller than the main one. Opposite was another building that looked almost the same and a passageway connected it to the main building. The asylum was quite a complex. 

He turned around and marched back, seeing there was a door on the back side of the building, which he had not noticed before. Unfortunately, the door led straight into the playground... So he could forget it.

The Time Lord kept on walking around till he came across an open basement window. When he stuck his nose inside, he knew why. His nostrils were hit by the same revolting smell that he had encountered in the room with the impaled man. Only that this was even stronger and almost made him sick.

Doctor had to put his glasses back on in order to see a thing before he squeezing through the window into the dark cellar.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this one as well. :)  
> Thanks for reading so far... Hope you stick around till the end. :)
> 
> PS. Chapter 3 is coming tonight as well because this one is short!


	3. Stay a Bit Longer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're with Clara again...

Clara's heart was racing in her chest as the big man carried the Doctor out of her sight.

A bang. The sound of glass being shattered. Another groan. Silence.

Do as he'd said - there was no other option, no better ideas. She ran back around the corner where the monster wouldn't see her and waited. After a moment, her ears caught the sound that came somewhere from behind her back.

Her heart skipped a beat. She was suddenly much more afraid. Without the Doctor. Alone.

The door in the middle of the hall started opening, so she jumped back behind the corner with lightning speed. The big guy stepped out. Thankfully, he slowly walked in the other direction.

Weird.

He had seen her but wasn't looking for her. He was just... wandering about. Clara thought him mentally ill. Completely damaged by whatever had happened to him.

At least she had a chance now.

She quickly squeezed between the pieces of furniture and hurried to the room to which the Doctor had been brought earlier, and was greeted by the chilly air that sneaked in through the broken window.

“No, no, no, no, no...” she whispered.

She leaned out, but couldn't see properly due to a few branches that were in the way. But yes, it was there although she didn't want to admit - a body motionlessly lying down on the ground in the dark.

Her heart sunk into her stomach.

“Doctor!” she whispered instinctively.

Nothing.

She didn't think... hoped he wasn't dead or severely injured. He couldn't be. Her Doctor. Maybe the branches slowed his fall down... They must have. Or else he would have regenerated, wouldn’t he?

Clara started looking around the room. In the bin, she found a crumpled piece of paper, and with a pen from the table, she quickly wrote a message on it before she threw it out of the window.

The impossible girl left the room and then carefully went over to the lift. She was about to get in when a distant whistling sent a shiver down her spine and made her froze on the spot. She had no clue where it was coming from, but it was louder with every second and her eyes were nervously looking from one side to the other but saw nothing.

Footsteps.

It was somewhere downstairs, so she cautiously looked down the lift shaft. She couldn’t see much and when everything went all quiet again, she decided to walk because the lift might be loud and draw too much attention to itself.

Slowly Clara descended the stairs to the ground floor without making almost any sound. In front of her was a big entrance hall with the barricaded main door. Her left and right connected a long and quite dim corridor. Continuing to the cellar was also an option, but she didn't consider that as a good idea. She decided to go left because there, at the very end, there was another corridor that crossed this one, which gave her some kind of hope. As she went, she wasn’t sure what to find there… maybe just another corridor with door, but she hoped for something else. An exit. Whatever exit. Just something that would allow her a quiet escape. On her way, she saw blood on the walls - lines left there by the hands of the poor devil who tried to hold onto it.

Small anxious steps, turning around all the time just to be sure that no one was following her.

 _“ISN'T IT FUNNY?!”_ was written on the wall to her right, in bloody capital letters.

The impossible girl started walking a little faster, not paying attention to any of the doors that the halls were offering her - except for the one that was partly open. She would have walked past it indifferently if she hadn't heard sounds coming out. No groaning or screaming, no. It was quiet howling... wailing. Whispers.

Clara Oswald was Clara Oswald. She couldn't resist peeking inside - only to know if she should hightail or if it was nothing that could harm her.

The door squeaked as she was slowly opening it and she found herself in a room full of... beds, probably, that were separated by hospital screens. Some of them were sprinkled with blood from the inside and there was blood on the floor as well – carmine footprints all around the room.

“Help,” came a whimper.

“You’ll never be a real surgeon, Rick,” came another one from the same voice.

Clara dared to push the screen to her right away.

Nothing.

Just a cold, empty bed smelling of hospitals mixed with blood.

She hated that.

The impossible girl tried the other hidden bed... and wished she hadn't done it.

A man was lying there, tied to the bed and his belly was cut wide open with some of his insides sticking out of it. The man's eyes were fixed upon Clara as he stopped talking. Those empty just kept on gazing at her... looking through her.

She was horrified, so she decided to go back to the door. She stuck her head outside and looked to her left - clear. When she looked to her right, her face met a hard fist that made her fall to the ground.

“I'm glad you've called upon me,” said a man's pleasant and calm voice before he punched her again.

Shaken, on her knees, she tried to get up but, a sharp kick in her stomach made sure that she stayed on the floor and the man’s fists beat her till she couldn't move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!  
> Thanks for the comments so far! ♥ I appreciate it very much, really! I love reading them.
> 
> Chapter 4 will come on Friday! >:)


	4. Buddy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed your dark side!

“You must be exhausted. Let’s take a break, huh, buddy? The old two martini lunch, have a little confab.”

“Heavier than you look. Okay.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she felt foreign hands around her aching body. Terror was making it even number than it already was, making her muscles tense... She was frightened of what would happen to her and at the same time she hope the Doctor would appear by magic and save her.

Her wishes were not fulfilled.

The man strapped her into a wheelchair

“Here we go. Arms and legs inside the car at all times.”

Just then she could finally see him properly.

He was quite tall - his withered body was just skin and bones, close to anorexia. Only a few strains of grey, almost white hair were draping from his scalp to his neck. His face partly covered a tattered surgeon mask and round steampunk-esque glasses sat on his beak-like nose. All he wore was a blood-stained apron around the front of his legs, but that apron was nothing but a dark green patient sheet. He also had a patient drip taped around his left arm, stabbing into his veins.

“Why are you so pale, buddy?” he asked.

“Some fresh mountain air would do you good. I love it”

He drove her slowly to the end of the hall where Clara had initially wanted to go. Behind the corner she saw, a door with the sign "EXIT" on it.

“Please, go ahead for a stroll if you like, girl, I'll wait here. But watch out when you open it... The wall outside it's completely overgrown with bushes and ivy.”

“Go ahead, I’m in no hurry. Run free,” he prodded her happily.

“No?” he asked after a moment.

“Nose to the grindstone. I like that. Okay then. Right this way,” he chuckled as he drove her back.

Clara didn't engage in the conversation with him... The only thing she tried was moving her hands and feet, but it was no use. At least she knew where the exit was... if she would be so lucky to ever make use of it.

“I hope you are comfortable in this chair... Unfortunately, I don't have a better one,” he explained in his friendly tone as if Clara had come for a cup of tea.

They entered the lift cage and went up to the fourth floor.

“How rude, I haven't introduced myself yet. My name is Richard Trager,” he said with his hands folded behind his back, watching the passing floors out of the old lift.

The wheelchair was creaking as she was driven out of the lift, wriggling in her seat in vain.

“Shh, it's alright,” Trager assured her and rubbed her shoulder.

Clara just waited, trembling with fear.

She just admired the serene corridors with not so serene patients of the doctor... Most of them were dead or in agony, making strange sounds that echoed through the halls which looked all the same - so cold and blood stained. She didn't even bother anymore. The impossible girl tried to memorise their way - just in case...

“Almost there, buddy,” Trager explained and Clara dreaded the place they were going to even more than before. As they went through a big room with beds, Clara's eyes travelled to the middle where a man confined to a bed. He ignored them.

Trager drove her through a door and there they finally were - at a makeshift operating room; a bathroom covered in a pool of gore with a table that had various sharp tools on it. He parked her right next to it so that she could see herself in the dirty mirror that was there.

This is it, she thought as her heart was pounding in her chest with such power that she felt every single beat.

“Thanks so much for coming by. We'll begin your consultation in a moment; I'll just need a second to wash my hands,” Trager proclaimed and went over to a washbasin where he washed his hands.

Meanwhile, Clara still gave another try to free herself but failed again.

“Tell me, have you been here for long?” the surgeon asked her while he picked a machette from his table.

As it was lightly pressed to her neck, she shook her head.

“No,” she whispered.

He stepped back and placed it back on the table.

“So I presume you haven't met Mr. Gluskin - "The Groom"- yet?” he asked again while his eyes flickered between the sharp tools while he was deciding which of them would be the best.

“No,” she replied again - her voice broken.

He picked a butcher's knife.

And he walked back to her.

“Oh, I'm glad - you are a lucky woman,” Trager explained as he poked her in the stomach.

Clara was shivering with fear, feeling like she'd been sitting there for at least an hour already.

“No offense to the man, but I sometimes worry he might just be a little bit... crazy,” Trager continued while his eyes were fixed on Clara's hands.

He took her right hand in his and examined it before he walked back to his table and laid the big butcher's knife back on it.

“He's very keen on certain body parts, you know. I've already sold him a few...”

Clara was shaking with fear and a tear escaped her eye and ran down her right cheek when she saw him pick up a large pair of bone shears.

It was all so quick.

The sadist held her hand tight and her right index finger quickly found itself between the jaws of Trager's shears. Her teary eyes just stared at her hand, feeling more and more pressure. Her limbs jerked, face twisted in pain as the sharp metals were biting deeper and deeper into her skin and flesh. She screamed and the shears finally snapped and the blood started to flow out. In drops it was raining to the ground where it mingled with the cold blood of someone else that had been there before her.

Her crying and groans filled the room and her sight started to get blurry.

Trager slapped her across the face.

“You paying attention? Don't pass out on me!” he said loudly before he swiftly moved to her other hand – her left ring finger found itself in the grip of the shears.

And there it was again, the cracking sound and immense pain accompanied by her cry, but this time, she felt like it was quicker. Maybe she was just too numb from the first pain.

“We’ll get on with it in a moment,” Trager proclaimed and left the room, leaving his patient crying and screaming there.

Clara started hysterically moving and wriggling in her with more power than ever. After a few moments, she managed to break out of the wheelchair restraints. She freed her blood-covered hands and then her legs.

Breathing heavily, she got up and staggered because her legs nearly gave up under her weight. She leaned on the washbasin in front of her and her chest and abdomen were heaving as she vomited - partly in the sink, partly on the floor.

She couldn't tell what was worse, the horror or the hellish pain in her hands - the cold air that was pecking at the chopped off, exposed flesh and bone, the blood dripping... She felt sick and didn't think she would ever get out of this asylum.

Clara didn't know where Trager had gone but had no doubts he would be back soon. Dizzy, she went out of the door into that big dim room with the one man on the bed.

“Is somebody there? Is somebody there? Come closer...” came his dry and hoarse voice.

Clara didn't know why, but she obeyed.

A lamp was illuminating the man confined to the bed. His mattress was soaked with blood, his body full of bruises, scars, burns and big stitches. Blind. His genitalia removed.

“I'm not a patient. I'm an executive. Like him. Like Trager. He got the treatment. He's too alive. Filled with nightmares. They couldn't control it... And you can't control it.”

Then he his raspy babbling went louder.

“Nobody. Nobody! NOBODY!”

“He'll find you! He'll kill you! He's coming now! TRAGER! TRAAAAAGER!”

As he was screaming, Clara quickly scuttled away and crept under the nearest bed.

Second later, the surgeon came in with his bloody shears in hand and stood next to the bed.

Clara, with tears streaking from her eyes, shaking under the bed, watched.

Trager started, in his usual calm voice, “I see what's happening here. You're bored. You want a little attention. Perfectly understandable. Well, I'm here for you. I'll give you very special attention.”

The doctor lifted the pair of shears in the air and started stabbing his victim. Loud screaming filled the room as the blades sunk into the flesh, circled, snapped, got pulled out. Again and again till the man moved no more.

Clara knew things were getting hot when she saw Trager walk back to the bathroom to check on her. The terror inside her made her stay frozen under the bed. She only wiped the tears away with her red hands.

“FUCK! Fuck! Really?!” Trager’s hysterical shouting that came from his "operating room" could be heard in the whole building.

“You're gonna walk on me?!” he barked and came back the big room where Clara was hiding.

“If there is one thing I cannot god damn stand, it's a quitter! Come on!”

He was walking around the room… as if he smelled that she was not far.

“I should have cut her feet first. Amateur move,” he added quietly as he was looking around.

Clara knew he would find her in the end.

She took a deep breath and darted out from under bed towards the closest the door that lead to a corridor.

“There you are, buddy!” Trager called and ran right after her with his shears in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs away*  
> -  
> Kudos & comments appreciated as usual!  
> Thanks for the previous comments and for reading so far! ♥


	5. Darling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who still continue reading, thank you and thanks for the comments. :)
> 
> And for those of you who are eagerly waiting for the next chapters - you're lucky! Because since I've got exams on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, I will publish the last chapters (V, VI & VII) this weekend and on Monday. It's because of the fact that I will probably be tired and won't be on my laptop much... And I don't want you to wait long - for example from Monday till Friday. :)
> 
> Chapter VI - Sunday, 10th January  
> Chapter VII - Monday, 11th January

Through the narrow window, the Time Lord had slipped into the dark basement where a unbearable stench burnt the tissue in his nose and made his face grimace with disgust. The night vision mode allowed him to see all the jumble (old beds, ragged sheets, broken chairs and dishes...) piled up in the small room where he was.

Carefully, so as not to tip anything over, he moved to the door that led to another, bigger room.

A wave of much stronger reek slapped his face and tightened his insides as he stood before the newly revealed, horrendous scenery. A dead man was lying on a makeshift operating table, his body held in a particular position by ropes - woman breasts were sewed onto his chest, his head was cut off and partly forced into his body there where used to be his penis...  Completely mutilated and bent to mimic... or mock the moment of birth. To make it complete, his hand was held in the air by ropes and by two hands of another dead man who was "standing" next to the bed.

The Doctor would never admit it, but his hands were trembling in this dark place. He had to find his Clara. Immediately. Maybe it was too late…

The Doctor walked through the three adjoining rooms before his pupils fell to the last wooden door. He turned the doorknob, but the door was jammed... and when he looked up again, his hearts skipped a few beats when he saw a man's grinning face against the glass of the door.

“Darling,” the man exclaimed happily and the Doctor just stared at him, frozen on the spot.

It was Eddie Gluskin - also called "The Groom", "The Man Downstairs", "The Thing Below" or just "Mr. Gluskin" by the other inmates who were still alive on the upper floor of the asylum. Oh yes, he was knows.

Gluskin was tall - taller than the Doctor, quite muscular, middle-aged, with a black slicked back undercut hairstyle which was neatly combed down. The right side of his face was covered in blisters and skin peelings. Every vein in around his blue pupils was snapped, making his eyes extremely bloodshot. Dressed like a gentleman, he wore a dirty white shirt with slightly rolled up sleeves, a grey waistcoat, black bow-tie, matching belt and cargo trousers, and also black fingerless gloves and matching work boots.

The Doctor's legs started to work again and he jumped to the side although it was too late.

The Groom walked away from the door...

“Did I frighten you? I'm awfully sorry, I didn't mean to,” Eddie said calmly, in his soft voice and continued right when he was almost in the same room as the Doctor.

“We've met before haven't we? I know I've seen your face.”

“Maybe... Just before I woke up. Though it seems like a dream now, being here with you.”

The Doctor ducked under the nearest table when he heard approaching footsteps as his hearts were racing in fear.

“Let me fill you up. You don't have to be alone anymore. You could make me whole. I could fill that emptiness inside of you. Let me love you,” Gluskin seduced the Doctor who wanted to run like never before - but he had to wait until the charmer moved to one of the corners instead of standing in the middle.

“Darling, where are you?”

The Groom kept pacing across the room and when he finally walked past his, the Doctor jumped up and made a run for it.

“No! Darling, come back to me!” Eddie called after him, afraid he might lose him.

The Doctor ran faster, jinked his way through all the old tables and wardrobes and managed tp escaped to the main corridor where he first saw Gluskin, and there he slipped into of the doors and shook his suitor off.

The Doctor was a little out of breath, his body hurt, his hearts pounded in his chest... The stress and suspense were draining him. He was no idea where he was, where Clara was and what still awaited him.

His feet trod softly in order not to make any noise as he was continuing on his way.

Doors, doors, doors, darkness and stench of blood and piss. It was a real maze down there. He opened one of the doors and found himself in a corridor in which was a mannequin that was wearing a wedding dress sewn by Gluskin. There was also a small board on which was a fine drawing of that dress. He took his glasses off and walked on towards a few working pendant lights...

Suddenly the Doctor heard Gluskin sing:

_“When I was a boy my mother often said to me,_

_get married son and see how happy you will be._

_I have looked all over, but no girlie can I find,_

_who seems to be just like the little girl I have in mind._

_I will have to look around until the right one I have found.”_

It was close, but the Time Lord just couldn't say where it was coming from because it was echoing all over the place.

Which way to go?  Such lottery.

He sloped into the room to his right and then he turned to his left... The voice seemed to be quieter… and then it stopped. And now the Doctor really had no clue about The Groom's whereabouts. Quietly as a mouse, he went to the very back of the room where was a door - blocked by a small metal shelving unit. Through the little glass window on the door, he saw another corridor that was fully alight... and there was a lift shaft!

“Yes!” the Doctor whispered to himself.

It wasn’t the same lift he saw with Clara, but it was certainly a way upstairs and that was enough for him.

Vigorously he jumped to the side and started pushing the obstacle away. As the metal ground against the floor, it creaked in a disturbing way…

Footsteps incoming.

“Darling. You could be so beautiful,” Gluskin called as he was running towards the sound.

The Doctor slammed the door behind him and ran toward the shaft.

“I want you to have my baby.”

“I certainly don’t want any babies with _you_ ,” the Doctor murmured to himself.

The lift wasn't there and the Time Lord couldn't afford to wait for it because he was hotly pursued, so he just jumped onto the red ladder that was inside the shaft.

Too old. Rusty.

The Doctor’s happiness from his success ended quickly.

The rung under his left foot broke off, then the one under his right foot and the whole ladder started to bend and tilt away from the wall. He held on with all his power, but even the rugs in his hands failed one after another... The ladder broke and with a scream, the Doctor flew down.

One floor down.

The Time Lord cried out as the fall and landing on the lift impaled a large piece of metal into his right ankle, gravely hurting his foot.

“Oh god. Oh god, are you okay?! Tell me you're okay,” Gluskin called from the upper floor, sounding genuinely worried.

“I hate to think of you suffering without me.”

The Doctor's faced grimaced and a cry escaped his lips as he was pulling the damn piece out.

He rolled over, so he was on all four and slowly got up despite that immense pain.

“Why would you do something like that to yourself?”

The Doctor's blue watery eyes flew up and he saw The Groom standing on the higher floor, looking down.

“You'd rather... Rather _die_... than be with me?” came his question.

No answer.

“Then die.”

The Doctor was barely standing, on the lift somewhere between the underground floors minus two and minus three... The lift unexpectedly started going up, allowing the Doctor to get off at the second underground floor.

“What have you...? Then we continue!” Gluskin now angrier, harder, but also enthusiastic voice echoed from above and the Doctor cursed in his head as he was limping away from the shaft.

He could go only to his left this time where he came to a corridor that crossed the small one where he was in. On the wall in front of him was written in blood: "A woman's work is never done”

He went right, limping as fast as he could, feeling a stinging pain that went right up his leg every time his right foot had to touch the ground… How was he supposed to escape in this state.

Hearing the sound of the lift from behind made him sweat even more…

He had a chance. The whole asylum complex was a real maze. Eddie may have known it well, but the Doctor could hide somewhere and wait. Just wait.

The Doctor saw some illuminated stairs somewhere in front of him, on the right side of the hall... Were they stairs? They could have been... Either way, he wanted get out of sight, so he went into the first door on his left and found himself in a changing room with lights on...

“Welcome home” was written on a blackboard.

Breathing heavily, he struggled through and found himself in a small dark room with one door - he grabbed the door handle, but the door was locked… And he quickly removed his hand when the Groom walked by.

There was nowhere he could go except back. A dead end.

“That part of you the world sees, they think it's perfect. As God intended. Even these idiots and lunatics see it. There's something special about you. On the surface,” Gluskin talked.

Right next to the door, was a locker, so the Doctor hid inside. He could do nothing better...

“But when they look deeper, when anybody with eyes to see looks at what you truly are. That's why they don't trust you. You're not what you're meant to be. Not yet. This place can see into your mind. And the things you've done. Oh, they're a sin, darling. But a flower is only as sweet as the soil that nourishes it. And yours needs nourishing, and pruning, and care.”

The Doctor, stressed and in pain, heard the honey voice that didn't seem to get quieter. His chest was rising and falling quickly and he was trying to not to make any sounds... Though, he was sure his hearts could be heard on the whole floor.

And the voice was lounder.

“Hmmm. Close. I can... the smell of my love's arbour. Darling, you can't hide from me,” Gluskin said happily as his locked the Doctor inside the locker.

“No, please, don't,” the Doctor whispered, hiding the fear and pain in his low voice.

The Groom tipped the locker over and looked through the broken series of 3 horizontal angled slats.

“You make yourself a gift for me. A delicacy to be unwrapped and-- unwrapped again. And savoured.”

Then he started dragging the locker to his "workshop".

“I've been a little... vulgar. I know. And I want to say, I'm sorry. I just... you know how a man gets when he wants to know a woman. But after the ceremony, when I've made an honest woman of you... I promise I'll be a different man.”

“I want a family, a legacy. To be the father I never had. I'll never let anything happen to our children. Not like...”

Eddie led another monologue on his way while the Doctor dreaded everything that was going to happen. He wasn't even properly listening...

xxx

The ride was longer than the Doctor expected… and then they finally stopped and Eddie set the locker upright.

The Doctor's hearts nearly stopped when he saw the scenery in front of him through the slits in the locker door.

A long bloody table with a buzz saw at the end of it. Chains hanging from the ceiling and two arms were tangled up in some of them. He just stared. Staggered.

“You'll have to wait here. I know you must be just as eager as I am to consummate our love. But try to enjoy the anticipation.”

“Here, darling. This will help you relax,” Gluskin said as he gassed the locker with sleeping gas.

The Doctor's eyes watered as he choked and coughed while his sight went from sharp to blurry and from blurry to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this one. :)  
> Thanks for the comments and kudos!


	6. The Runaway Bride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

_Above the knees and below the navel_

_Sliced and sewn on Gluskin’s table_

_To make a place to push inside_

_The groom will make himself a bride_

“Darling, I need you to try to bleed less. I know the fairer sex often endure the same wounds with more suffering, but you really need to make an effort.”

The Doctor started waking up... his head hurt, his breathing was quick. He blinked a few times and his eyes focused. Through the slits in the locker door, he witnessed Gluskin mutilate another captive inmate.

“No, NO! Please!” screamed the victim on the wooden frame right before the Groom frantically started jabbing his knife into the man's lower parts.

More screams. Blood splashing.

Then Eddie grabbed his collar and started banging with the man against the table. He was so helpless and numb that his body was like a piece of rag.

“No. I'm so sorry, darling. Love isn't for everybody,” Eddie stated and pushed his body down on the ground...

Then the Doctor’s eyes started closing again and he passed out.

x

Later, he back to his senses when Gluskin mutilated another inmate.

The "surgeon" stood between the naked man's legs, running his hand across his thigh and chest...

"Hold still now, darling. All these unsightly hairs. Oh! Silky smooth. Like a little girl again. Now the more delicate bits."

The man didn't even react, lying there in blood and agony... Gluskin took one of the sharp knives and cut the victim open - from under his throat down to his crotch.

The sharp blade drew a bloody line, accompanied by a desperate scream that filled the "workshop" and continued echoing in the halls... Down at the genitals, Eddie snapped the body in half.

Deafening scream.

“You've given up. You're ugly and you've given up on love. You're not even worth stringing up. Bleed here and die.”

Then Eddie started the buzz saw and grabbed the victim's head and shoved it against the sharp blade.

Blood everywhere.

The Doctor was sick from the sight and still so very tired. His eyes lids started to be too heavy again as the remains of the gas lulled him back to sleep.

x

The next time the Doctor started waking up, he felt that his hurting body felt unexpectedly... more comfortable, he’d dare to say.

No wonder - he wasn't squashed inside the locker anymore… And when he opened his eyes into the light that was dangling above, he wished he was.

The Doctor found himself stripped off his clothes, lying on the wooden, bloody table with his limbs splayed on a wooden frame and his genitals aimed at the buzz saw where Eddie stood.

“You have amazing bone structure. Such soft skin. You're going to be beautiful,” he spoke softly as he was stroking the inside of the Doctor's right thigh.

Then he walked over to his side while the Time Lord was in horror of all the things yet to come.

“A woman... has to suffer some things. It's not pleasant, I know. But just try to... endure. For my sake. For the sake of our children.”

It won't take long. A few snips of the flesh here, and here,” Gluskin explained as he walked his fingers across the Time Lord's chest and then down to his crotch.

“Cut away everything.... vulgar. A soft place to welcome my seed. To grow our family. The incision will hurt. And the conception. And birthing is never easy.

“I'll make the cut fast. Just close your eyes and think of our children.”

The Doctor frantically started to wriggle as much he could when he saw how sloppily Eddie tied his hands and feet... Meanwhile, Gluskin, with a loving look on his face, started pulling the wooden frame towards the buzz saw.

The distance was disappearing and the Doctor's hearts were throbbing like mad.

This wasn’t happening… This couldn’t be happening.

The spinning buzz saw was about to reach his pale body when another crazy inmate threw himself at Eddie.

The Doctor pulled with more and more strength until the ropes around his hands and feet let get him go. He carefully swung his leg to one side and rolled over, fell on the ground into a puddle of cold and stinking blood.

In front of him, the inmate in ragged clothes engaged in a fight with the Groom who then started pursuing him.

“Get back here! You're not done dying, you slut!” he screamed in fury.

The Doctor was still a bit numb from the gas and from what could have happened... He struggled to his feet and grabbed his coat, trousers and shoes that were on a small table next to him - he even took the blood soaked shirt a waistcoat that was lying in a dark red puddle on the ground and started limping out of the workshop.

The Time Lord could swear he was somewhere else now... It was hard to tell because the halls seemed to be all the same. Or maybe he was just nuts already.

“You'll run out of places to go. I know you're not like the others. Or are you just another whore?” Gluskin called from the workshop.

The Doctor clenched his teeth, determined to run despite the devilish pain it would cause in his right foot. There was no other possibility.

His limping turned into something that resembled running and the torture started.

“Darling. Whore! Why would you do this to me?” Gluskin shouted, dashing after him.

The Doctor ran through the unknown maze and growled as he lost one shoe on the way.

“You crazy bitch!”

The Groom's insanity projected into his voice just now, making the Doctor braver and even more determined to escape. He couldn't allow the nutter get him once more.

Turning left, he came into a small corridor at the end of which was a big broken window with torn curtain flapping in the wind.

“I take it as an invitation,” the Doctor muttered to himself as he was running towards it.

A few last steps.

A jump from the second floor (Vocational Block) where Eddie had brought him.

He cried out as he landed and his feet gave up under his weight. A few tears ran down his cheek and he punched the concrete ground under him with his fist. Everything hurt and it was cold and he was humiliated and desperate and furious.

He rolled over on his back and saw his “rescue window”.

“All of you whores. Your judgment. Your little swinish eyes.”

“You all want to leave me? Is that it? You want to leave me? Fine! Go! You and the rest of these ungrateful sluts!” Gluskin barked from above.

“Go to hell!” the Doctor exclaimed before he coughed a few times.

The cold ground under his body made him sit up...

He took his soaked shirt and tore it to bandage his ankle with a smaller piece. Then he put his trousers back on and his dirty velvet coat.

On his feet again, he went to the opposite building where the door was open. It was a strange building, resembling a gym maybe... Who cared? The main thing was that it was connected to the main building he and Clara entered at first.

Hope that she was wandering the ground floor or hid somewhere there kept him going.

So he limped - it was even worse now - to the opposite block. Slowly. Bare feet, dirty opened coat, dirty trousers... His hand found the sonic glasses in his pocket - broken, so he just threw them on the ground, halfway there. The TARDIS would give him a new pair anyway.

Cold was stiffening his sweaty body that was partly covered in dried blood  in which he had been lying on The Groom's table. He was disgusted with it… With Gluskin. Sick pervert.

He was in pain and tired... and afraid. Even anxious.

He came inside the building - stairs on his right, a corridor to his left and a big door in front of him that led to a gymnasium. The passageway to the main building connected this one at the other side, so he wanted to go straight through. The door was locked; therefore, the Doctor used his new blue sonic that would do the job.

The lock clicked and he went inside.

A horrifying scenery welcomed him inside.

Multiple mutilated and dead bodied with their heads in nooses hung down from the tall ceiling like skinned rabbits. Ropes on the ground, in the air and metal poles that made a well-worked out construction - it held well and it was also a kind of pulley which helped to hung the men up with using so much power.

The Doctor's feet kept on treading softly and slowly while his eyes stared at the ceiling. So many bodies. And among them more free nooses for more.

He didn’t go far.

The Doctor got a fright when a pair of strong arms turned him around.

Eddie Glushkin - tired of trying to woo him and just wanting his death.

He punched the Time Lord’s jaw with such power that blood flew out of it and the Doctor fell to the ground. He didn’t even get the time to react and he was getting pulled up to his feet again.

“One more. I try and I try. And you all betray me,” Gluskin uttered as he was beating his darling's face and torso black and blue.

A final powerful strike and the Doctor landed on the floor again, spiting blood out of his mouth. He was almost incapacitated by such a brutal beating.

“And you can hang like the rest of them,” Gluskin proclaimed and put a noose around the Time Lord's neck.

The Doctor's felt it tighten immediately while the Groom was pulling the ropes. His hands got hold of the noose around his neck - forced his fingers between the snake and his skin, but it didn't help much. It was choking him while he was being pulled up into the air.

“Heavier than you look. If this is you on the honeymoon, I'd hate to imagine our anniversary.”

The Doctor wriggled and kicked his legs around just to make it harder for the insane monster.

The pulley system broke and the Doctor dropped closer to the ground while his weight dragged Eddie's feet across the floor towards him because he was too heavy for him to hold.

“Hold still. God dammit, what are you... Damnit darling! No, you need to behave,” Gluskin coaxed the victim with hearable worries in his voice as he was struggling to pull the Doctor back up, his feet getting tangled in multiple ropes.

The Doctor kept on wriggling in the air as he was choking and heaving, watching keeping his eyes on the Groom whose power to hold him was about to disappear.

”Agh! No, no, no, no!”

He lost his balance and as the Doctor's body dropped further down closer to the ground and Gluskin got propelled up and impaled on the metal rod of his own construction on the ceiling.

Close and next to each other hanging in the air now, Eddie Glushkin got the hold of the Doctor's hand and his crazy blue eyes looked at him again - for the last time.

“We could have... been beautiful,” Eddie choked out quietly.

The Time Lord's body fell onto the ground and his weight pushed the Groom further up to the metal pole.

The Doctor struggled for breath as he was lying on his back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Gluskin was dead. The amateur surgeon, father-to-be, husband. His guts shredded and pulled out of his belly and drops of blood were raining down on the floor.

The Doctor’s dry lips curled into a faint smile. He was trying not to do that. He really was.

He took a few deep breaths to stabilise his breathing because his air passages felt as if they were stuffed with something. Unpleasant feeling.

After a moment, he got to his feet and limped on to the main building of the asylum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it!  
> Kudos & comments appreciated! ♥


	7. Outlast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back with Clara...

Time to run.

Clara was sick, dizzy and in pain as she hurried into and through the corridor to the lift.

“Well, aren't you a quick little buddy?!” echoed from behind her.

Luckily for her, with the big shears in hand, Trager couldn't run so fast, but he was still quick... It would be great to shake him off, but that was simply not possible, as her feet didn't feel like carrying her for a longer period of time. And he was close, too close to get rid of him somewhere... Not to mention that the asylum was his playground and he knew its rooms and halls much better than her.

Clara managed to tip over one of the empty wardrobes that were in the corridor as she ran by.

“Aren't you a slippery little fucker?” Trager cursed as he got a held up for a little while as Clara was dashing to the lift as if it was a sanctuary.

She stormed inside, closed the cage door and pushed the ground floor button.

“Oh, come on, buddy, we're not done yet!” Trager screamed, taking the stairs while Clara went down. Very slowly.

As she was descending to the third floor, she could hear Rick fighting the blocked cage door there.

“I'm not giving up on you,” he barked while he was prising out the cage door with his shears.

Clara was scared to death.

When she was almost at floor three, Trager broke in and threw himself onto her, but Clara managed to grab his wrists, so he could not cut her nor punch her. Her wounds were burning during this, but she fought on with remarkable strength - even she herself was surprised by that... Since Trager was so malnourished - just skin and bones, he didn't have that much strength and for a moment, the Impossible Girl pushed him out of the moving lift. She struggled on for a few seconds before she moved backwards and dropped to the floor of the lift that kept on moving down... Trager followed. He tried to jump into it, but only his upper torso made it - the rest was still lying on the floor outside of it. Growling, he quickly swung his shears at Clara and the blades found their way through the fabric of her clothes and then her skin - right from her left shoulder to above her right breast.

Clara hissed and watched as Trager screamed while his body was getting crushed between the lift and floor - hands flapping around, bones cracking...

The shears fell to the ground.

Silence.

Clara broke down, sat on the floor and her heart was racing that it almost hurt.  She put her arms around her waist, digging the exposed flesh and bone into her cardigan to stop it from bleeding... A few tears escaped her eyes and ran down her cheek.

Hunched in a corner. Alone.

Her watery eyes flickered across the small room and noticed a hatch in the ceiling, but she didn't bother standing up... She knew very well that she was too small to reach it. And even if she could do it, she wouldn’t have the power to lift herself up. And the excruciating pain in her wounds would kill her.

She was trapped.

How long would she have to be there? There was no signal to call the Doctor... Maybe he would never come. And she would die there…

Clara looked at her right hand - her index finger was gone. Only a very small, swelled up part of dark red colour with the white small bone in the middle was all that was left of it. And the stinging pain sent electrifying impulses through her whole hand and arm. Disgusting.

She put her hand back around her waist again, the flesh against the cardigan.

And she sat there, listening to her own breathing... Anxious, sick, wounded, cold and trapped in a lift with a dead body half inside it.

X 10 minutes later X

Clara's belly was acting up again... She crawled to one of the corners right next to the door and her stomach started contracting. The small rest of food that was still inside her covered in a light creamy chyme spilled in the corner... Her chest was heaving and she retched until only a clear liquid came out of her. There was a pain in her chest, her throat felt sore from the stomach acid and her mouth tasted of vomit... The aggressive stench of it filled her nostrils.

When it was over, she crawled back to "her" corner.

There was no one to fetch her a glass of water… No one to soothe her.

X 40 minutes later X

Was she hallucinating?

It was, wasn't it? The sound of the sonic screwdriver… Such sweet music to her ears.

“Clara?” came a muffled whisper.

“Clara, please...”

“I'm here - inside the lift,” she finally managed to speak, but not too loud. No one else had to know - only him.

Then she heard treads on the ceiling of the lift. The sonic again and then the hatch opened.

Relieve washed over her when she saw the Doctor's smiley face... She almost couldn’t believe it.

Worries filled her as well when she saw the cut on his face and dried blood smeared under his nose and a little around his mouth.

“Clara,” he smiled.

“Hey,” she replied in her brittle voice, still hugging herself.

“My sonic led me to your phone. Don't worry now,” he tried to calm her down when he saw her teary eyes, heard her broken voice.

The Doctor stuck his hands through the opening, “Come on, I'll pull you up.”

“Doctor, I,” she started softly as she got up.

Not knowing what to say, she just lifted her arms up.

The Doctor's soft and loving expression disappeared and turned into horror with the speed of light. He quickly withdrew his arms, leaned against the wall and covered his mouth with his hand whereas the other was over his hearts. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply as sorrow and mainly rage started flooding his mind and body.

Clara waited… till he was ready.

She heard him ask in a low and rough tone.

“Who's done this to you? Was it him?”

“Yes,” she whispered, looking at Trager.

The Doctor stuck his head down the hatch to look at that squeezed bastard.

There was a maniacal look on his face and Clara could see the fury in his eyes.

“I would tear him apart if he was alive,” the Doctor whispered.

Thousands thought flew through his mind... How scared she must have been. How painful... His blue eyes wandered over the blood-sprinkled floor to the corner where he saw the vomit, then back to her.

“Doctor, please, just get me out of here,” she pleaded.

Her brittle voice softened his features and he offered her his hands again.

She stretched hers out and the Doctor gently wrapped his long fingers around her wrists in order not to irritate her wounds.

He lifted her up and pulled her slowly to him, between his legs, into an embrace.

Her hands rested between their bodies.

“Where's your shirt?” she asked him.

“I've lost it on my way together with my waistcoat, glasses and shoes.”

Clara looked down to his feet and noticed that his right one was covered in blood.

“What's happened to you?” she asked, pitying him.

“It's a longer story - I'll tell in the TARDIS. Come on, we have to go.”

Clara agreed quietly.

They got up and within a few moments she saw that he couldn't even walk properly. Despite his protests, she insisted on supporting him - at least a little because he was clearly in pain.

Never took it longer to walk down three floors.

Clara suggested going out through the door that Trager had teased her with, but the Doctor wanted to go through the passageway and gym into the garden and from there to the main gate. He was sure it was safer, so Clara obeyed.

It was cold and going to the TARDIS seemed to take an eternity.

But they made it.

Inside, the Doctor pulled the main lever and the timer rotors started turning as they took off. He also heard a thud, but it wasn't the TARDIS - it was Clara who'd fainted.

The Doctor was with her right away. In spite of his injury, he picked her up and carried her to her favourite place in the blue box - the dim and cosy, palace-like living room with an enormous sofa with small pillows in front the fireplace.

The Doctor sat next to her and brushed a string of hair from her face. Tiredness and traits of tears visible. A cut above her breasts. Poor Clara… At least her fingers didn't bleed any more.

After a while, she woke up and “Don't worry, we're safe in the TARDIS” were the calming words she heard.

The Doctor helped her to sit up and handed her the glass of water that the TARDIS has prepared for her.

“I think I need a shower,” she sighed.

“Me too, definitely,” the Doctor agreed, getting a disgusting feeling when he remembered Gluskin touching him… and lying around in blood of God-knows-who.

The glasses filled itself up, so Clara could drink some more.

“Meet me here then... And in case you feel worse, just call, alright?” the Doctor said and Clara nodded.

They both went into one of the bathrooms to wash shadow of the asylum from their bodies.

x

The Doctor lied down on the big couch and rested his head on the numerous small pillows of TARDIS blue colour. He was exhausted after that day. Mentally and physically.

His foot was still sore, but he knew it would heal quickly due to his advanced healing abilities of his body.

After a few moments, Clara joined him.

The Doctor sat up immediately and pulled her cold and shivering body into a gentle hug.

She was still in pain from how Trager had beaten her and chopped her fingers off. Still dizzy and a bit sick. Shaken. Pale as death. The TARDIS and the Doctor’s arms felt like heaven right now.

They stayed like this from a couple of moments and Clara asked him curiously about what had happened to him. He rubbed her back and started telling her about his “tour de asylum”, about Gluskin… Clara was listening with shock and disgust, pitying the Doctor…

A cut wound on his face – from under his eye to his jaw. Injured foot. Small cuts on his hands. A mark around his neck… Beaten like a dog.

“I’m sorry. It was a stupid idea to come here,” she whispered into his neck, blaming herself for their trouble.

“Don’t be, please. It’s not your fault. We couldn’t have known that it would be so extreme,” he assured her.

Clara didn’t even need inviting and automatically started telling her story… She needed to get rid of it, tell someone. She talked slowly; her voice was quiet, at some parts even broken… And when she finished, the Doctor hugged her even tighter and pondered what could have been if he hadn’t got held up by the Groom. Maybe he could have saved her…

His fingers were drawing patters on her back to help her relax some more…

“May I look at your hand, Clara?” he whispered.

Clara was shocked by his answer. She didn’t want him to see it, neither wanted she to look at her disturbing, disfigured hands. Not now when it was so fresh and painful.

“Clara?”

“No, Doctor. There’s nothing to look at,” she murmured into his neck, wanting to cry again when she remembered the snapping of the shears… It would probably haunt her some nights.

“Please,” he whispered into her hair and slowly let go of her.

Clara didn’t protest anymore, but only looked away when he took her left hand where her ring finger was missing. There was just a swelled up little bit of red and violet flesh, tissue and bone... It was already visible how the skin started closing itself up.

How she must have suffered… And still suffered now.

“Don’t worry,” the Doctor whispered before he waved his hand a little until a golden glow formed around it.

“You don't-” Clara started but the Doctor cut her off.

“Shush.”

He took her hand in both of his, closed his eyes and leaned forwards, so their foreheads touched.

Clara stared at his hands and at the beautiful golden regeneration energy that was about to heal her. Her wound was suddenly warm and she felt an itch in her palm that went up to her shoulder... and the pain faded away.

The Time Lord just grew her finger back and did the same on her right hand with her index finger.

He’d tired himself out even more with this, but he didn’t mind. What wouldn’t he do for her…

“You didn't have to do this,” she whispered, her big brown eyes gazing at him.

He opened his eyes kissed her forehead softly.

“Of course I had to,” he smiled and lied back down on the sofa, still holding her hand.

Clara lay down as well, snuggled close to him and carefully put his arms around his body that would be covered in black and blue marks the next day.

“Thank you,” she kissed his cheek and the Doctor looked at her lovingly.

“Rest now, my Clara, you need it,” he said softly while he put his arms around her and rubbed her back gently.

“You too, Doctor.”

“Do we have a blanket? I’m still cold,” she asked after a brief moment.

“Of course.”

The Doctor snapped his fingers and the TARDIS teleported a blue blanket on their bodies. He tucked her up, cuddled her close to give her a feeling of love and safety and this time he even fell asleep sooner than her…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was the last chapter...
> 
> It was something entirely different from what I usually write, but I really loved writing this horror fic and I hope you enjoyed it!!!  
> And of course, I'll be glad if you leave kudos or/and a comment! :3
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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